


i want to hold you like you're mine

by luzlicious (Miss_Marigold)



Series: unrelated luztoye drabbles [10]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Drugs, Joe gets high and thinks about George a lot, M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:23:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Marigold/pseuds/luzlicious
Summary: Joe was content to be left in his chair, lazily smoking down a blunt as he imagined all of the different ways George could be touched.





	i want to hold you like you're mine

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Agnes" by Glass Animals

As the tendrils of smoke pour out of George’s mouth and dance their way to the ceiling, Joe finds he physically can’t tear his eyes away from the brunette. A lazy smile is spread across George’s face, eyes slightly unfocused as he slouches further into the worn beanbag. What he wouldn’t give to be wrapped around George, in some poor imitation of that beanbag, encompassing all that George was. To twine his arms completely around the brunette, to melt together until they were permanently fused.

 

Maybe it was the weed talking; Joe was an emotional stoner.

 

While Malarkey or Babe started waxing poetic about the new Glass Animals CD or Bill started playing trippy movies about tires, Joe was content to be left in his chair, lazily smoking down a blunt as he imagined all of the different ways George could be touched.

 

He’d touched him some already; the drunken fumbles of friends who played fast and loose with their sexualities when the alcohol poured, urged on by drinking games and quiet alcoves that begged to be debauched. They were young, and it wasn’t exactly out of place in their circle, but they were growing older. Closer to real adulthood than they were to childhood. The fleeting trysts were only making him feel older, highlighting just how much he craved George, craved him constantly; high, drunk, sober, in every state of being.

 

Maybe it was the weed talking; Joe was a horny stoner.

 

He wet his mouth with a bottle of beer, letting the glass linger, resting against his lips. The bottle was still cold from the fridge, and the sensation felt pleasant against his fevered skin. He stays frozen for who knows how long, mind flitting around without purpose.

 

George’s eyes catch his, an eyebrow quirked up in question. _Are you okay?_

 

He lets an easy grin slip, eyes wandering purposefully over George’s body. George’s eyes widen in response before narrowing, new mission in mind. With an excuse to get some air, George wanders past Joe, towards the back door that empties out into the alley of the apartment complex.

  
Joe follows, pulse picking up in anticipation. George is a horny stoner, too.


End file.
